


just a bit of advice

by dreamerfound



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Advice, Aziraphale's Bookshop (Good Omens), F/M, Fluff, Gen, M/M, Podfic Welcome, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-02
Updated: 2019-10-02
Packaged: 2020-11-10 16:21:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20854709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamerfound/pseuds/dreamerfound
Summary: Anathema goes looking for advice at a certain bookshop and ends up offering some instead.





	just a bit of advice

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to my beta: Corvidian (all mistakes are my own)
> 
> written for fan_flashworks challenge #276: advice

Anathema had been feeling strangely unmoored since they'd saved the world a little over a month ago. It wasn't the whole saving the world thing that was the problem, it was what came after. For the first time in her life, Anathema was living life without an instruction manual. Some days she liked the newfound freedom, while others had her wracked with anxiety, something she had never actually experienced before now. Did she regret burning Agnes's further prophecies? Maybe a little; some days more than others. She half expected another box of predictions to show up one of these days. 

She was staying on in Tadfield for the time being. Newt had all but moved in with her; only returning home every once in a while to pick up a few more of his things and check in with his mother. Their relationship was progressing well. What wasn't going all that well was the rest of her life. Anathema had no idea what to do with herself. Everything she'd ever been raised to do was done. She'd averted the apocalypse, the book was finished, her whole chosen one shtick was over. This was all fine and good, except that she'd never planned for anything else. Her family had plenty of money from wise investing thanks to Agnes's prophecies, so she'd never held a real job. She had asked her mother what she should do next and her answer of "get married and give me grand-babies" had been less than helpful. Anathema had been avoiding her phone calls ever since.

Burning the further prophecies meant that she was on her own. Feeling a bit lost, she'd talked about it with Newt. He'd been appropriately sympathetic but he didn't really know how to help her beyond being supportive. He did suggest that maybe she might want to talk to someone. It sounded like a good idea but where would she even find someone to talk to about this sort of thing without having to leave out so much of the truth?

It took thirteen tarot readings, with the Temperance card showing up in each one, for her to realize what she needed to do. It wasn't the meaning of the card that led her to a certain bookshop in Soho, it was the image of an angel smack dab in the middle of it that clued her in.

***

"Are you sure you don't want to come in with me?" Anathema said, giving Newt a kiss on the cheek before getting out of the car.

"No, no. I'm good." He ran his fingers through his hair nervously. "Call me when you're done, or if you need anything," He'd been more than a little freaked out when she had explained that the man-shaped being she was going to see was a literal angel. She didn't dare tell him that she was almost positive that his companion was a demon. 

Anathema stood outside the old bookshop and studied the posted hours. They didn't make any sense, not if he actually wanted customers. A small sign and her own intuition told her the shop was open. She tried the door; bells jingled as she opened it and made her way inside. 

Anathema stood just inside the shop, taking in the clutter and dust all around her. It seemed to her as if a significant amount of care and attention had gone into making the place feel exceedingly uninviting. She stood there, alone for a full minute before the proprietor stepped out from behind a stack of books. He held his hands behind his back and an unconvincing smile on his face. "May I help you?"

Anathema recognized him from the airbase at the end of the world. Well, the almost end of the world. He was even dressed in the exact same anachronistic clothing. She couldn't quite make out his full aura. She'd recently figured out that the auras of most supernatural beings were too enormous for her to perceive fully, but she was able to discern the fine shimmering outline of angelic wings. She could tell that he was annoyed by the way the shades of red light in them flickered. Hopefully, she could do something about that. "I'm not here to buy anything," she assured him. A moment later she felt the annoyance she'd sensed dissipate and his smile turned genuine. 

"Oh, I remember you -- the young lady with the bicycle -- Agnes Nutter's descendent, yes?" 

Anathema nodded. 

"Come in, dear. Would you like some tea? Or maybe a cup of cocoa?"

She smiled. The energy around him sparkled in pastel colors now. "Some cocoa would be lovely."

She followed him to a small back room set up with a sofa, some chairs, a small desk, and a table; along with various books, bottles of wine and a number of other things she couldn't identify at a glance. It was strange. She would have thought angels would be more tidy, minimalist even. She found it charming that he wasn't, like at all. 

The angel wasn't alone. On the sofa sat the driver of the antique car that hit her. There was a glass of wine in his hand and a scowl on his face. The demon. She wondered if she should be frightened of him. Anathema, unsure of where to sit, stayed standing. 

"So, book girl, what brings you round?" 

Anathema couldn't make out his eyes hidden behind fashionable sunglasses, she remembered them being vaguely inhuman though. "I was hoping to ask Mr. Fell for some advice."

He snickered as if her words were the funniest thing he'd heard. "Advice, really?"

"Yes," she said firmly. She wasn't about to let him intimidate her, demon or not. Despite his words, the energy around him wasn't antagonistic in the least. If anything it seemed cautious, and maybe a little protective.

He looked her up and down and slid over to the other side of the sofa. "Sit." When she hesitated, he smiled and said, "I don't bite."

Anathema smoothed her skirt and she sat down beside him. A few seconds later the angel was standing in front of her, handing her a steaming cup of cocoa.

"Please don't antagonize our guest, dear." The angel leveled a look at his friend before settling himself in the chair opposite them. "Did I hear you mention you were here for advice?" He asked her. 

"Yes -- um, Mr. Fell..." She wasn't really sure what to call him, so the name on the door was what she went with. 

"You may call me Aziraphale." He said helpfully. 

She leaned forward and held her hand out. "Pleased to meet you, I'm Anathema Device." The angel's hand was warm and soft in hers and the vibe she got from him was very similar. 

"Seriously?" The demon laughed. "Your family named you Anathema Device?"

Anathema ignored him, she was used to people giving her shit for her name, she had stopped taking it personally years ago. "What's your name?"

The demon let his sunglasses slide down his nose, showing off his golden vertical-slit eyes. Serpent eyes. "Crowley." 

He didn't offer her his hand. Anathema leaned back and had a sip of her cocoa. It was the best she'd ever tasted. Even better than the cocoa her nana used to make when she and her cousins were little and would gather at her home for stories and sweets.

"Please behave yourself, dear," Aziraphale said. 

Crowley pushed his sunglasses back up, crossed his legs and gave his friend a soft look. 

It was obvious to Anathema that they'd known each other for a long time. The thought triggered a memory. A story the angel had started to tell at the airbase. Something about a garden and a serpent. "Um, how long have you two known each other?" 

Aziraphale's eyes lit up. "Oh, I never got to finish telling my story, did I? So much was going on with the whole Armageddon thing."

"You could tell me now." 

Crowley sighed and the angel began his story. It was a very long story, one that meandered in many different directions and took nearly an hour to be told. No wonder the demon had stopped him from telling it at the airbase.

Crowley stood up. "Okay, this has been fun and all, but I need to go water my plants." He placed his wine glass on the table and turned to Aziraphale. "Angel, pick you up around seven for dinner?"

"The Ritz?" Aziraphale asked.

"Unless you wanted to go someplace else?" 

"No, the Ritz sounds lovely, my dear. I'll see you then." 

Anathema felt the urge to look away. The looks these two were giving each other were so intensely intimate. There was so much longing with the way Aziraphale watched Crowley leave. Once the demon was gone, she cleared her throat to get the angel’s attention. "So, how long have you two been together?"

"Together?" Aziraphale said with a voice tinged with wistful yearning.

"As a couple." 

"Oh, we're not..." He trailed off, staring towards the door Crowley had gone out.

Anathema looked at the swirls of energy surrounding him and the trails that were left from Crowley. They clearly loved each other, that much she was sure of. She may not have been as psychic as Agnes had been, but she knew how to read energy trails, especially ones as powerful as these. She took a moment to clear her head and spoke from her intuition. "He clearly loves you."

His head whipped around to face her, a shocked look on his face. "What?"

He had to know, right? His energy was sparking strangely, she was going to need to go gently with this, it was obviously a sensitive subject.

"Crowley, your demon friend. He loves you." She kept her words as gentle as she could.

"How did you know he's a demon?"

That's what he was latching on to? Anathema sighed. "Well, he's obviously not human -- neither of you is. Your energy signatures are all wrong for that, never mind your auras." Anathema watched the angel straighten his bowtie. "That and certain things in Agnes's book made more sense after seeing you two at the airbase."

"Oh, right. You're a witch, I'd forgotten that." 

"Is that a problem?" Anathema had no idea what angels thought about witches, but surely it wouldn't be that much of an issue for him if he was in love with a demon, right?

"No, my dear, it just makes hiding certain things more difficult, it seems. Do you have Agnes's gift for prophecy as well?" He asked that last bit a little too hopefully.

"Sorry, no. I don't get visions of the future. I do get feelings and impressions of the present sometimes, but nothing of the future, especially not the far future." She didn't mention the strange dreams she'd been having since burning Agnes's further prophecies. She also didn't mention that little bonfire. She had a strong feeling the angel wouldn't approve of burning books, even unbound ones.

He reached forward and patted her knee. "Well, I'm sure there's still time. When did Agnes start having her visions, do you know?"

Anathema realized that the angel had just deftly changed the subject. "I'm not sure, different family members tell different stories." She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and leaned forward slightly. "You obviously love Crowley too."

"Of course I do, I'm an angel. I love everyone." He was fidgeting with his hands. How had she not noticed that before? She had been so busy looking at him on a metaphysical level that she'd forgotten to look at his body language. He was nervous.

Anathema thought about dropping it but couldn't bring herself to do so, it felt too important. "Is it forbidden?"

He laughed nervously. "You could say that. We're not even supposed to be friends. Well, we weren't. I suppose it doesn't really matter now. We've both had a bit of a falling out with our previous sides. The whole averting the apocalypse thing. It wasn't exactly appreciated."

"The guy in the grey suit, was he your boss?" 

"Gabriel, yes." Aziraphale poured himself a glass of wine and took a sip before continuing. "My side -- my former side -- wanted the world to end, see? Both sides did. It was the one thing they agreed on."

"So if neither of you is on those sides anymore, what's stopping you from getting together?"

"There's so much history." He shook his head and took another drink. "Words said, by me -- oh, dear me, I'm being an appalling host, would you like some more cocoa?"

"I'm good, thank you. Please, go on with the story."

"Yes, well. Words said, moments passed." He fluttered his hands.

"You faced the end of the world together, surely you can face your feelings."

"You would think so, but it's more difficult than I imagined. I worry that it's too late."

"Why would you think that?"

"I told him that he went too fast for me and now that we're on our own side and he hasn't made a single move."

"When did you tell him that?"

"Oh, 1967, I believe."

Anathema blinked. That was well before she was born, though to a being of his age it probably didn't feel all that long ago. "Maybe he's waiting for you to let him know that you're ready."

Aziraphale was quiet a moment. "Do you really think so?"

She nodded. "I do. If you told him that he was moving too fast, and he backed off, maybe he's just continuing to respect your boundaries."

"Oh, I suppose that does make a certain degree of sense." He took another sip of wine. "Perhaps I should send him some sort of signal."

Anathema sighed. "You could just tell him, you know, so there are no misunderstandings."

"But what if he doesn't feel the same way?"

"He does, believe me, I can tell."

"All right, I shall tell him tonight at dinner." The angel smiled and she could see the hint of a halo shine above his head. 

"Er...didn't you come here to ask for advice?"

She laughed. "I did, but I think I'm good." If two incredibly ancient beings still didn't have their shit together after six thousand years, she could give herself more than a couple of months to figure out what she wanted to do with her life.

"Are you sure, my dear?"

"I am. Thank you for the cocoa. I need to get going, my boyfriend is waiting for me."

"Perhaps you can visit another time. I could show you some of my collection. I have some very nice first editions."

"I'd like that." 

They exchanged phone numbers and made plans to get together for tea the following week. It was the beginning of a very lovely friendship.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[PODFIC] just a bit of advice](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22182442) by [ReadWithDetermination](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReadWithDetermination/pseuds/ReadWithDetermination)


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